Our dark beauty, Miss Torsen, was now seriously considering taking her
departure. She was healthy enough in any case, so she did not need a stay
in the mountains on that account, and if she was bored, why should she
stay?
But a minor event caused her to stay.
In their lack of occupation, the ladies at the resort began to cultivate
Solem. They ate so much and grew so fat and healthy that they felt a need
to busy themselves with something, and to find someone to make a fuss
over. And here was the lad Solem. They got into the habit of telling one
another what Solem had said and what Solem believed, and they all listened
with great interest. Solem himself had grown spoiled, and joked
disrespectfully with the ladies; he called himself a great chap, and once
he had even bragged in a most improper way, saying:
"Look, here's a sinful devil for you!"
"Do you know what Solem said to me?" asked Miss Palm. "He's chopping wood
and he's got a bandage on his finger, and it keeps getting caught in the
wood and bothers him, poor fellow. So he said: 'I wish I had time to stop
so I could chop this blasted finger right off my hand!'"
"Tough, isn't he?" said the other ladies. "He's quite capable of doing it,
too!"
A little later I passed the woodshed and saw Mrs. Brede there, tying a
fresh bandage on Solem's finger.... Poor lady! She was chaste, but young.
The days have been oppressively warm for some time now, with the heat
coming down in waves from the mountain and robbing us of all our strength.
But in the evenings we recovered somewhat, and busied ourselves in various
ways: some of us wrote letters or played forfeit games in the garden,
while others were so far restored that they went for a walk "to look at
nature."
Last Sunday evening I stood talking to Solem outside his room. He had on
his Sunday clothes, and seemed to have no intention of going to bed.
Miss Torsen came by, stopped, and said:
"I hear you're going for a walk with Mrs. Brede?"
Solem removed his cap, which left a red ring round his forehead.
"Who, me?" he said. "Well, maybe she said something about it. There was a
path through the woods she wanted me to show her, she said."
Miss Torsen was filled with madness now; handsome and desperate, she paced
back and forth; you could almost see the sparks flying. Her red felt hat
was held on the back of her head by a pin, the brim turned up high in
front. Her throat was bare, her frock thin, her shoes light.
It was extraordinary to watch her behavior; she had opened a window onto
her secret desires. What cared she for Tradesman Batt! Had she not toiled
through her youth and gained school knowledge? But no reality! Poor Miss
Torsen. Solem must not show a path to any other lady tonight.
As nothing more was said, and Solem was preparing to depart, Miss Torsen
cleared her throat.
"Come with me instead!" she said.